


Strategic Maneuvers on the Prince Serg

by misura



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Community: slashfest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-30
Updated: 2010-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-14 05:48:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/146046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gregor's like Miles, sometimes - not that Ivan realizes that quickly enough to make a difference, but in <i>hindsight</i> ... yeah.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strategic Maneuvers on the Prince Serg

**Author's Note:**

  * For [carodee (Caro_Dee)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caro_Dee/gifts).



> originally posted May 2007
> 
> prompt: _Gregor/Ivan - Ivan's not as dumb as he looks but his act has kept him far, far away from the traditional Barrayaran blood sport of treason. Emperor Gregor's impressed with the strategy_

Miles was predictably but nonetheless amusingly stumped. Gregor had actually been wondering if Miles had, perhaps, noticed something and had simply been too polite to comment - the discovery that he had, in fact, managed to keep his true motivations a secret from Miles in spite of Miles having been in the loop from beginning to end was nothing if not gratifying.

It would, Gregor decided, be good for Miles, too. Being allowed to crawl into the skin of Admiral Naismith again had done wonders to dig Miles out of the hole he'd buried himself in after Kyril Island, but more or less single-handedly saving several planets from a Cetagandan invasion had left Miles a little full of himself - understandably, perhaps, even if Gregor felt (and Miles knew, he hoped) that things might have ended far less well for Barrayar in general and Miles in particular if it hadn't been for Miles' father and several others. Miles could use a reminder that he didn't know everything.

"Why Ivan?" Miles asked, pacing. "I just don't understand!"

Informing Miles that Illyan had reacted much the same way, if a little less expressively was probably not going to help, Gregor reflected. "It's not like I'm giving him any responsibility, you know."

Miles' head snapped up, and Gregor could practically read his mind. Hell, even _Ivan_ might have made an, if not perfect, then at least fairly good guess. At heart, Miles was an egomaniac.

"Ivan's been doing _nothing_ except scanning information," said Miles.

"His superior's told me he's become quite good at it, too. Not exceedingly fast, of course," - because even Ivan had taken less than half a week to figure out that finishing early just meant you'd get more work - "but faster than average." Thanks to the actual average carefully being kept secret from the employers - not that Gregor thought Ivan'd stick to the average if he knew what it was; that would require making an effort, after all.

Still, what _Ivan_ had been doing, or how well he'd been doing it was not the issue here. Gregor was curious to see if Miles would own up to that.

"There's dozens, no _hundreds_ of poor sods who do the same work as Ivan, and you're not offering _them_ a plum-posting aboard the _Prince Serg_."

"I don't know those other people." Gregor shrugged, watching as Miles seized on this argument, trying to make it fit. "And Ivan's almost family."

"You're not taking him along just because he's family," Miles stated firmly.

"I'm not taking him along _just_ because he's family," Gregor agreed.

Miles worried his lower lip.

"Oh, come on, Miles. It's not as if I'm putting him in charge," Gregor added.

Miles narrowed his eyes. "You mean, like you put me in charge of the Dendarii?"

Gregor's lips twisted. It took Miles a little longer to get the joke, and even when he did, he still looked more suspicious than amused.

"Can't you just accept that I've got my reasons and leave it at that?" Gregor said. _Can't you just accept that even_ I _can't give you back your chance at a regular military career?_

"But it's _Ivan_!" Miles wailed.

x

Ivan's reaction, when Gregor told him the good news, was carefully neutral - mostly, Gregor suspected, because he'd told Ivan over the vidcom. The only spark of emotion Ivan displayed was when Gregor told him that the assignment would be strictly temporal - the _Prince Serg_ would travel to Komarr and back and perform a few practice-maneuvers while en-route, during which certain data would be recorded and needed to be entered in a non-ship system in order to be studied more closely off-board.

"More of the same work you're doing at present, in other words," Gregor said.

"Oh, good," said Ivan.

"Naturally, your present post will still be yours upon your return."

"I'm pleased to hear that," said Ivan.

"Do you have any questions?" Gregor asked, mostly for form's sake, and because it seemed unlikely he'd manage to coax an honest reaction out of Ivan right now.

"Did Miles put you up to this?" Ivan asked.

Gregor managed not to sigh. Not only did _Miles_ think everything was always about him; he made other people think it, too.

"Never mind, that was a stupid question," Ivan said, before Gregor could formulate a reply.

x

One of the nice things about being aboard a ship - aside from the 'being aboard a ship'-part, which Gregor was able to enjoy much more fully without a relative and several planets being at risk, or several boring speeches and a horde of hopeful prospective parents-in-law to look forwards to - was that ImpSec considered the ships of his imperial majesty's fleet almost as safe as Gregor's personal quarters in the palace - if not safer. He wasn't quite allowed to wander around on his own, but when he requested some time alone with 'a friend' (a term with which Ivan would probably disagree - vehemently) his bodyguards simply shrugged and positioned themselves on either side of Ivan's door.

It was probably a good thing that Ivan was in - Gregor rather suspected the sight of his two bodyguards might have scared him off otherwise, loyal subject of the empire or not. Miles, now, _Miles_ would have probably come running at the sight of two imperial bodyguards keeping watch in front of his quarters, and demand why Gregor hadn't sent for him the moment he walked in.

Gregor wasn't entirely sure which reaction he prefered. Neither, perhaps - Miles' excessive enthusiasm to be of use was almost a match for Ivan's desperate scrambling to stay away from any task that smacked of responsibility. On the other hand, Miles usually succeeded, whereas Ivan did not, as proven by his presence here, although, possibly, Ivan's failure wasn't entirely his own fault in this case.

"Just an informal visit," Gregor said, before Ivan could salute and call him 'sire'.

"Hah!" said Ivan, looking far more disbelieving than Gregor felt warranted. Ivan chose not to make his suspicions explicit though, instead making some vain and doomed attempt to make his cabin appear a little neater than it was. After about ten seconds, he gave up and gave Gregor a wary look. "Coffee?"

"Feel free to have some, if you'd like," Gregor said, prompting Ivan's look to change from 'wary' to 'annoyed' - even if, apparently, Ivan wasn't annoyed enough to forego his coffee. Gregor took the opportunity to look around the room. Not that there was a great deal to see; Gregor judged that most of the less-than-neat elements dated from less than a day ago, with a popular magazine of dubious quality and a few holovid-disks being the possible exceptions.

"So, what's this all about?" Ivan asked, sitting down. "And remember, I'm not Miles."

As if anyone could ever mistake Ivan for Miles. Gregor resisted the temptation to snort.

"Believe me, I'm quite aware of that."

"I don't do daring rescues or suicide missions or brilliant plans," Ivan listed. "Or any of those other things that Miles does," he added, after a moment's thought.

"Like annoying the hell out of your superiors? Interpreting your orders to fit what you want to do, instead of what you're supposed to do?" Gregor suggested mildly. "Arguing with your emperor?"

"Miles only ever argues with people when he thinks they're wrong, and most of the time, he's right, too," Ivan said morosely, apparently retaining less-than-fond memories of his own last argument with Miles. Gregor was rather curious what it had been about, but regretfully decided that finding out would require too much of a divergence from his original plan.

"How are you liking your job so far?"

Ivan narrowed his eyes - reminding Gregor acutely of Miles, making that same gesture at him less than a week ago. "This one, or the one back home?"

Gregor wondered if Miles thought of Barrayar that way, too - 'home'. Admiral Naismith, he fancied, did not, although Gregor wasn't sure if 'Admiral Naismith' would call _any_ place 'home'. Miles' head, perhaps? Was the Admiral a part of Miles, or was he a _different_ Miles?

"Either. Both." Gregor shrugged.

"Right." Ivan grimaced. "I like working in Vorbarr Sultana, having my own apartment, just living my life with nobody bothering me to break several security regulations."

Gregor chose to let that one go - he knew Miles would only ever ask Ivan for help when he had to, and when he judged the risk to Ivan 'acceptable' (regardless of Ivan's own opinion on the subject) and he knew Ivan knew it as well.

"And meeting girls without your mother around to remind you you're old enough to get married?" Gregor tried to sound casual, and didn't quite succeed.

Ivan blinked, before brightening considerably. "Is _that_ what this is - good God, Gregor, you could have just _told_ me so. You had me worrying for days about this weird assignment of yours! Although I still don't get why you couldn't just ask me over for dinner - well, maybe not something quite so public, but still ... " Ivan shook his head.

Gregor was tempted to fish for details about just what kind of assignment Ivan thought had been intended for him - and how he explained Miles having stayed at Barrayar with nothing better to do than touring the district that he one day would rule as its count.

Ivan relaxed for the first time since Gregor had come in. "I guess I can see why you didn't pick Miles for this - poor guy stands about as much chance of getting himself a girlfriend as ... as ... "

"As you do of getting actual ship duty?" Unfair, that, perhaps. Ivan hadn't finished at the top of his class, but he hadn't finished at the bottom, either. He'd been somewhere in the middle, comfortably blending in - high enough above the average to please his mother, but not high enough to stand out.

"Perhaps not quite so little," Ivan allowed. "He's still a count's heir, after all. Definitely a nice catch for someone with ambitions to get a bit higher up on the social ladder. Of course, a wife's not the same as a girlfriend."

If only Ivan knew ... but no, there were some things that were best left to Miles to tell Ivan, if he so chose. It was not Gregor's task to open Ivan's eyes as to the appeal Miles held for women who could appreciate him for who he was, rather than how he looked. And on Barrayar, Gregor judged with regret, Ivan would be right. Unless he followed his father's example, Miles would likely remain a bachelor for the rest of his life - too ... too _Miles_ to marry for anything but love.

"Poor sod," Ivan added.

"Miles will take care of himself, I'm sure," Gregor said with confidence that was mostly unfeigned.

"Hmm." Ivan thought this over for a moment, then nodded. "So ... you want to talk about girls? Can I ask who the lucky one is? It's not Donna Vorrutyer, is it?"

Gregor cast about for a reason for _that_ name to pop up, before he dredged up the rumor that she and Ivan had caused a bit of a stir some time ago - nothing so juicy as an outright scandal, but enough to get people talking.

"Actually, it's not girls, exactly." Too much and too soon? With Miles, he'd know - but this was Ivan. Subtlety would bounce right off that 'didn't hear, didn't see, and don't want to know' persona of his.

"Oh?" Ivan was beginning to look a little worried again.

"Eventually, I'm sure I will marry and produce an heir - " And he hoped it would at least be a marriage of mutual liking, if not of love.

"Several heirs," Ivan interposed.

" - but right now, I'm not yet ready for that kind of commitment," Gregor finished.

"You just want to get laid," Ivan translated.

Gregor winced.

"You want to hold hands and watch the stars on a lovely evening?" Ivan tried.

"Something in between those two extremes," Gregor said. "A relationship - discrete, of course - with someone who can be both my friend and my lover, possibly somewhat romantic in nature."

Ivan looked slightly dazed. "Well, glad to hear that at least you know what you want," he said weakly.

"So, Ivan, how about it?" He'd have to be blunt, Gregor decided. And since he'd gotten this far, he might well get it over with right away, too - if Ivan would say 'no', Gregor felt sure he wouldn't talk about this conversation - to anyone, not even Miles. And it wasn't as if he really needed to see Ivan very often; unlike Miles, Ivan was hardly the kind of brilliant mind an emperor wanted to keep a close eye on. Ivan could just ... fade back into the mass of Vor. Maybe.

"Uhm. I really don't know," Ivan said. "I mean, you should ask Miles."

"I'm asking _you_ ," Gregor said, with a touch of impatience. What did Miles have to do with this, anyway? Gregor supposed he could have inquired as to Ivan's preferences with Miles, but ... but then Miles would have known. Gregor didn't think Miles would condemn him - not for simply having the inclination, and not as long as he knew his duty was to produce an heir - but it would be awkward, he thought, to have that kind of secret shared between them.

"All right. Yeah, I suppose I can see why - Miles'd probably say 'yes' just because it was you who asked him, and he feels it's his duty to do whatever he can to make you happy. Whatever he can that he thinks should make you happy," Ivan corrected himself conscientiously. "But, honestly, I don't know if he likes other guys that way. It's not the kind of topic that just pops up in a conversation, you know."

"Ivan." It would probably be a bad way to start off his (possible) intimate relationship with Ivan by trying to strangle him for being an idiot, albeit one that was skilled in dodging public attention. "You're the one who's the - ah, what was the term you used again? The lucky girl - well, 'lucky guy', in your case. I know about Byerly," Gregor added.

"You - what?" Ivan didn't look like he considered himself any kind of lucky. In fact, he rather looked like a man who'd just been condemned to the firing squad.

Gregor chose to be merciful and assume Ivan had been referring to his last sentence. "I know that you have spent one night in the company of Byerly Vorrutyer. So you're at least curious."

"Who else knows?" Ivan demanded. "Miles? My mother?"

Ivan, Gregor decided, was focusing on the Byerly-thing in order not to have to think about the being-in-a-relationship-with-the-Emperor-thing. Ah well, Gregor'd let him run for a while.

"Simon Illyan knows, of course." Gregor shrugged. "I doubt he'd tell anyone else - Simon's hardly the type to gossip, to your mother or to anyone else."

"I was drunk," Ivan said. "Not in my right mind."

Gregor raised one eyebrow.

"Maybe I was a little curious, too - but I sure as hell wouldn't have picked Byerly Vorrutyer of all people to ... to try something with. The man's got no idea of the meaning of the word 'discretion'." Ivan blinked. "In fact, I wondered why he didn't brag about it to anyone afterwards."

Gregor allowed himself a smile. Ivan's eyes widened.

"Byerly Vorrutyer is, as all citizens of Barrayar, Our loyal subject," Gregor said. And more closely involved with ImpSec than Ivan would ever guess or need to know. "If you're still curious, then here's your chance to satisfy that curiosity without anyone knowing about it except you, me and a few choice members of ImpSec. Think about it, Ivan," Gregor coaxed.

"I am. Thinking about it." Ivan swallowed.

"Absolute secrecy guaranteed," Gregor pushed. "No hard feelings when it ends. And, best of all, no chance of ever getting promoted to a prestigious post."

"Huh? Why?" Ivan asked, confused.

"Because that would be favoritism," Gregor said. "Even if nobody else would know that it was. Well?"

"One condition," Ivan said, lifting his right hand.

"Name it," said Gregor.

"You never, ever tell Miles about this. And if my mother finds out, you're paying for a one-way ticket to the other side of the universe." Ivan frowned, his imagination doubtlessly coming up with several more conditions he might name.

Gregor decided he'd had enough.

"Done and done."

Time to take his victory and decide what he was going to do with it. Oh, and to tell Illyan that this one tryst of Ivan's was not to be briefed to Lady Alys, as his other ones had been.


End file.
